


Significant Victories

by hmichelle1294



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:52:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmichelle1294/pseuds/hmichelle1294
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke hasn't said much since the the last stand against Mount Weather.<br/>Bellamy hasn't slept much since Mount Weather.<br/>But nothing bad has happened since Mount Weather, and they're starting to heal, they're starting to heal back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Significant Victories

They had peace with the grounders, the mountain men were no longer a threat to them, and the kids that had survived Mount Weather were back at camp.

Jaha had not regained his position as chancellor.  Neither had Kane.  In fact, not even Abby had retained the chancellor position.  Instead, because Clarke was the one who had created and solidified the alliance with Lexa, and the kids from the mountain refused to follow anybody’s orders but Clarke’s and Bellamy’s, the people from the Ark decided to nominate Clarke as their new chancellor; the youngest and yet most respected in the history of the Ark.

And Bellamy was her second in command.  Obviously.  Even with his cane, he was not somebody to be trifled with, and everybody knew that.  And because nobody would dare mess with him, nobody would mess with Clarke.

After a long, exhausting month of healing reapers and bringing the mountain prisoners, both grounders and sky people, back to health, everyone was at least up and moving around.  Harper was on crutches, and Bellamy was holding a cane which he never leaned on.  They had taken the brunt of the bone marrow experiments and their hips were still a little bit messed up from it.

Not just their hips.  Harper shook, she simply shook all of the time.  And Bellamy, he flinched at anybody’s touch.  Except Octavia.  And Clarke.  Nobody else could lay a hand on him, he wouldn’t allow it.

But everyone was back and alive and nobody was throwing spears or firing arrows at them.  And even though Harper still woke up screaming, and Monty would jolt awake from fitful naps, and nobody was quite sure if Bellamy slept at all, even though Clarke still saw Finn sometimes, and even though Raven had gotten into the habit of getting into drunken shouting matches with anyone who would participate, it was the most peaceful things had been in a while.

So when Lexa suggested a harvest feast, a celebration of the return of their people and of their peace, Clarke agreed readily.  Her people deserved to celebrate.  And, as Bellamy had so urgently reminded her, so did she.

X

They had so much food.  There was a small village’s worth of fire pits with every kind of large animal imaginable roasting above them on spits.

And all around there were games.  There were tables where people from the Ark were teaching the grounders their favorite drinking games.  And spread out in the grassy field where the celebration was being held there were strange games the grounders were teaching to the sky people.  Clarke walked to one where Lexa was standing, Bellamy limping slightly behind her.

“Do you want me to teach you how to play this?”

Clarke nodded, cracking a small smile.  She turned her head to look at Bellamy, eyes questioning.

“You go ahead.  I’ll hang back here with a drink.”

She nodded once at him, turned back to Lexa and followed her to where there were two small tilted platforms with circular holes in them placed facing each other a few feet apart.

She listened wordlessly as Lexa explained the game-apparently named ‘corn hole’-and handed Clarke a few small cloth sacks filled with beans, demonstrating to her how to throw them at the opposite platform to get them into the hole.

Clarke had not spoken a lot since after the mountain.  Bellamy understood.  She had used up so many of her words just after Finn had died.  She had used up so many more when she found Bellamy near death on the marrow extraction chair in the mountain.  And those had been taxing words like ‘sorry’ and ‘please’ and he was pretty sure he had heard ‘love’ as well but he had been exhausted and only half conscious and he only remembered that moment in shadows and garbled voices.  But Clarke had used up all of her words, and now, when she had no pressing reason to use them, she simply preferred not to.

But he stood there, fiddling with the head of his cane and watching Clarke immerse herself in learning this strange grounder game, and he couldn’t help but smile at how into it she was getting.  No words were coming out, but he understood perfectly.  The furrow of her brow and pucker of her lips when she didn’t understand something.  The determination in her eyes when she was concentrating on her throw.  And his personal favorite, the laughter that bubbled out of her when she got the bag in the hole.  That one was the easiest to understand.

Bellamy limped up to where Lexa was.

“Commander, do you mind if I have a game with the Chancellor?”

“Be my guest, Bellamy of the Sky People.  You have understood the game?”

“I’ve been watching.”

And with that she nodded and left to go interact with some of her own.  Bellamy glanced at Clarke, whose eyes were shining with ‘I’m going to win’ and just a hint of moonshine.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Chancellor Griffin.”

He lay down his cane and Clarke’s eyes went from a competitive glimmer to a concerned, disapproving glare in an instant.  He loved that glare, he treasured that glare.  Because when he was in the mountain, tied down, being sucked dry of bone marrow, he wasn’t sure if he would see that glare again, even if he did see Clarke again.  Because when he left, she had sent him away with a stony face and a cold shoulder.  But ever since he returned she didn’t let him leave her side.

Once he had gone to spend time with Octavia without telling her he was going, and when he returned she had looked up at him with wild, frantic eyes and said a single sentence.

“I didn’t know where you were.”

And he understood then that she cared, so much.  She regretted sending him.  She regretted believing Lexa when she told Clarke that loving people was a weakness.  She had purposefully sent him off without letting him know how much he meant to her, not knowing for sure if she would ever see him again, and now every time he leaves she lets him know.

Oh boy does she let him know.

But that’s more…private…business.

Back to the present.

“Its fine, Clarke.  I can’t use the damn thing forever you know.”

The tentative look was a visual representation of her debating whether she was concerned about his health enough to force him to pick his cane back up or if she’d rather let him keep his pride and have a good time.

He knew her so well and he briefly wondered when that had happened but quickly shoved that thought aside.  It happened over time without him noticing and now she was second nature and that’s all that mattered.

They played.  Bellamy got chiding looks when she made a good shot and jokingly accusatory looks that said ‘you’re cheating’ without actually accusing him of cheating and he didn’t need her to speak.  He knew everything she wanted to say.

X

Her mother was hovering.  Again.  She was worried because she wasn’t speaking, had barely said a word to anybody since Mount Weather.  She thought she had shut down.  It wasn’t that.  She was just _so tired of talking_.

Bellamy, he got it.  And he got her.  He understood every look, every expression, he could practically read her mind from across camp.

She loved him.  She really, truly loved him with an almost painful intensity.  And she wanted to let him know, but she just really didn’t want to say it.  Say anything, really.

But he seemed to understand.  She admired him from her place across the corn hole area as he laughed and threw the bags (corn bags, that was what Lexa called them) toward her platform.  He was still a long way from okay, and so was she.  She still had to be tender when they crawled into bed each night.  He was still hesitant to let her express everything she wanted to because even though he knew she loved him-at least, he should know by now-he still remembered her sending him away, telling him his life was worth it.

She still remembered that too, every time she woke up.

One time she had woken up and he wasn’t there.  She was convinced it had all been a dream, that he was still gone.  She had spent the whole day in his tent, unable to force herself to do anything.  And then he had returned.

“I didn’t know where you were.”

Six whole words.

The next morning she woke up and checked to make sure Bellamy was still there and only seeing him there, solid and right next to her, could calm her down.

He stopped leaving before she woke up after that.

X

He won, and she stomped her foot but smiled the whole time.

And he favored his bad hip, now sore from playing the whole time without his cane, as he strode over to her.

“We were probably playing it wrong.”

But she shook her head and he had about .7 seconds to admire the way her blue eyes shone before she kissed him right then and there.  And he could almost hear her thoughts as he reciprocated.

“I won the most important prize already.”

And you know what?  So had he.


End file.
